


Scream to the Stars

by Cyndera_Anna_Dracona



Category: You-Gi-Oh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyndera_Anna_Dracona/pseuds/Cyndera_Anna_Dracona
Summary: Bakura sits on a rooftop.





	Scream to the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> First Yu-Gi-Oh I’ve posted here, and probably the only one. It’s very angsty...

 

 

Bakura wanted to scream.

 

He wanted to crane his head up to look at the twinkling, cold-hearted watchers of the universe, and wail uncontrollably, like a child who’d suddenly lost its mother in a large crowd, helpless, frightened.

 

He wanted to make enough noise to wake the dead, wanted to feel muscled brazen arms wrap around his chest, hold him close, a hand stroking through his silver hair, an angel’s voice to chase away his sorrow and anguish.

 

But instead, he sat on a lonely rooftop, arms wrapped around his legs and knees up to his chest to rest his chin on, looking down at the bustling night life of Domino City, not making a sound.

 

 

 

Nobody would find him here, he told himself, almost dreamily, though at his very core he knew it not to be true.

 

They would find him.

 

Maybe they would punish him for running off.

 

Maybe they would simply push him from the building to splatter blood, bone, and organs across the pavement, amidst the screams of terrified young women, and freaked young men throwing up onto the road.

 

He imagined their horror and terror, but he didn’t revel in it.

 

The screams echoed in his head ominously, laced with smatterings of crackling fires, wailing children, and hearty men skewering bodies with the jovial, cruel cackling and grunting of laughter at the expense of mere peasants.

 

 

 

He closed his eyes and imagined _them_ , the lonely boy, the abused idiot, and the half-crazed man, sitting in a bed so large it made the room look small, laughing, and teasing, and _happy_.

 

The scene continued for a little while, with the three making occasional gropes and grabs at each other, trading half-hearted insults and telling crude, suggestive jokes, all waggling eyebrows, and bouncing hair, and then it became more serious, and Bakura had to open his eyes again and focus back on the streets to banish the thought.

 

 

He knew they were happy.

 

He didn’t want to ruin that happiness by suddenly appearing, begging forgiveness from the ones he had hurt so much.

 

 

 

They were happy, and that’s all that mattered.

 

He made barely a noise, rising less than gracefully with a little sway to the left, and turned to waddle back to the door.

 

The handle made a cracking noise as he pushed it down to open the door, echoing ominously around the stairway behind it.

 

Once he was through, he shut it gently, and started down the stairs.

 

Maybe another day he would come back to the rooftop to let the world know he was terrified, hurt, and lonely, like a child crying for its mother.

 

Maybe, in a few weeks, he would come back, crane his head up to the stars above, and wail his anguish.

 

Maybe...

 

 

Maybe...

 

 


End file.
